


Manipulative Apparitions of Misrepresentation

by kickcows, Madisuzy



Series: Apparition Series [3]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Caning, Dubious Consent, M/M, Sex, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-12
Updated: 2014-03-12
Packaged: 2018-01-15 11:21:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1303024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kickcows/pseuds/kickcows, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madisuzy/pseuds/Madisuzy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ichigo’s dreams are haunted by his obscured reality</p>
            </blockquote>





	Manipulative Apparitions of Misrepresentation

**Author's Note:**

> Ichigo, Shiro (hollow Ichigo), Urahara, Tessai - Kickcows  
> Aizen, Byakuya, Renji, Gin, Kenpachi, Zangetsu - Madisuzy

Trudging up the dirt path towards Urahara’s Shōten, Ichigo tried to focus his eyes as he entered the shop. They had just finished a battle with a Menos Grande, and if it hadn’t been for Orihime’s quick thinking, Ichigo would not be his whole self. He slid the door open, leaning against the doorframe, the strength all but depleted from his body. 

“Kurosaki-san?” The voice of the shopkeeper intruded into his head. “Did you have a problem with the Hollow?” 

The teen blocked a yawn with the back of his hand. “No, no trouble, Urahara-san. It was taken care of.” 

“Where are the others?” Urahara moved across the room, walking over towards the teen. “Are you sure something did not happen to you out there?” The shopkeeper gave pause, as he examined the teen’s reiatsu. “Now that’s interesting…,” he mumbled to himself, taking note of something that should not have been there. 

Ichigo looked at Urahara with a blank expression. “Others? Oh, right. Chado walked Orihime home. It’s just me right now.” He leaned towards Urahara, resting against the man’s firm chest. 

“Are you certain something did not happen while you were out there?” Urahara asked, still trying to understand why the teen’s reiatsu was reading the way it was. There should have been no traces of any other shinigami on him, except perhaps the Kuchiki girl, but there was definitely a new reiatsu on him. 

“No, nothing else happened. I’m just tired. I haven’t been getting a lot of sleep the past couple of weeks, and not because of my substitute shinigami duties.” Ichigo stifled another yawn with the back of his hand. 

“Do you want to rest here? I have something that I think might help you get some much needed sleep. I just need to go and get it from storage,” Urahara said, placing a hand on the small of Ichigo’s back. 

The teen was too tired to argue with the man, not even noticing the hand on his body. “I guess so. Kon’s back in my body at home, so it shouldn’t be a problem.” 

“You need your rest, Kurosaki-san. If we’re to get you prepared for the upcoming battle with Aizen, then we need you to be at your full potential.” Urahara stepped away from him. “Why don’t you go to the spare bedroom in the back? I’ll go grab the medicine and meet you back there, alright?” 

Ichigo nodded, his head feeling heavier by the second. “Alright, Urahara-san. If that’s what you think best.” He glanced around, not sure which way he was supposed to go, his vision blurring from exhaustion. 

“That way, Kurosaki.” Urahara guided him towards the hallway. “I’ll be only moments behind you.” The shopkeeper disappeared, leaving Ichigo alone. 

Walking down the hallway, he couldn’t remember which room it was that he was supposed to go to. Something about the bedroom in the back, but which one? He had only stayed at Urahara’s Shoten a few times, still not knowing the layout of the place too well. He came to the end of the hallway, and was presented with two doors. Taking a chance, he chose the door on the left. As he began to open the door, he paused in mid-slide, not believing what he had just stumbled upon. 

Renji didn't hear the door opening, too focused on the man between him and the wall. Byakuya wasn't facing him, but he didn't need to be for Renji to know he'd finally managed to make his taicho come undone. Byakuya had both hands on the wall to support himself, but one was curled into a fist, and he was biting down on it. The attempt to muffle his sounds of pleasure was mostly working, but the soft moans and whimpers were still audible in the room... more noticeable for the fact Renji had never been able to pull a sound from the other man before.

"Taicho," Renji whispered, leaning in to nip Byakuya's shoulder. He paused in his thrusting to circle his hips, pushing in deep and drawing a gasp from his captain. Byakuya's other hand began to claw the wall, the wooden surface creaking in protest.

It was amazing and everything Renji had dreamed of, with one small exclusion. He wanted to see Byakuya's face, be able to watch him come and finally see that mask crack just for him. Renji always took him from behind, Byakuya insisting on that last step of separation... but maybe tonight he could push through that boundary.

When Renji suddenly pulled out, Byakuya almost fell, making a startled noise as he finally released his teeth from his hand. Renji caught hold of him quickly, turning the stunned captain around and pushing his back against the wall before kissing him deeply to mute any complaints or questions. Byakuya melted into him, his arms curling around Renji's neck as Renji's own slipped down from his captain's waist to pull their hips together. Byakuya moaned into his mouth, hips pushing forward for more, greedy in his lust and forgetting for a moment all that pride he usually clung so tightly to.

It was perfect... and Renji knew that this was a chance he couldn't let pass by.

Both the redhead's hands slipped down to the captain's ass, squeezing for a moment before lifting him up suddenly while Renji kept devouring his mouth. Byakuya's legs wrapped around him without a fight, and he leaned back into the wall enough that Renji could find his place again inside of him, thrusting slowly deeper as he swallowed down Byakuya's whimpers and gasps.

For a moment their lips parted, both needing to take a few deeper breaths, and their eyes connected and locked together. Byakuya's face was flushed, his hair mussed and his eyes wide and full of longing... and it was more than Renji could take. He began thrusting again in earnest, memorizing every emotion that fluttered across his lover's face, his heart aching in correlation with his rising desire as he watched his taicho approach his climax, bared before him not just physically, but finally emotionally as well.

"Byakuya," Renji hissed, unable to resist the temptation of his lover's lips any longer as he leant in to kiss him again. "Love you so much."

"I... you too," Byakuya managed to reply breathlessly before he kissed the redhead deeply once more. Renji couldn't help but smile into the kiss, knowing what Byakuya meant, even if he couldn't yet say it. Neither one noticed the thumping sound their actions were now making on the wall, both too close to their completion as words ceased to matter.

A hand closed over Ichigo’s fist, as a folding fan obscured his vision.

“Now, now, Kurosaki. There’s nothing to see in there. Especially not when it involves a taichou and his lieutenant, since one of them isn’t supposed to be here.” Urahara spoke in a hushed voice, not wanting to distract the two men in the bedroom. 

“Huh?” Ichigo heard the door close, as he was led towards the correct room. “So, was that…?” 

Urahara walked the teen into the other room, closing the door behind him. “It is of no matter, Kurosaki-san. Remember, you are very tired, and need to get some rest. Perhaps what you saw wasn’t really there at all.” He grinned, handing Ichigo a small cup and a pill. “Here, take this. Get some rest.” 

Not thinking twice about what the shopkeeper was giving him, Ichigo took the pill with the offered water. “How fast is this going to -” His words began to slur almost immediately.

“Rest, Kurosaki.” He laid the teen down on the futon, set up in the middle of the room. Ichigo snored loudly, his head tilting back on the pillow. Settling down next to him, Urahara began to run his hands over the youth’s body. “Now, let’s see just why you are carrying traces of another shinigami within your reiatsu.” 

…

Ichigo was running at full speed through the eerily empty streets of Seireitei. He had an inkling of where his friends were, but was still turned around. He headed towards where he thought he might find either the Quincy or Orihime, having all but given up on the others in his party. Running faster, he turned a corner, and met a dead end. 

“Shit.” He swore under his breath, turning on his heel to run back towards the way he had first started going. A sound made him stop, curiosity making him head towards the sound, rather than trying to make himself scarce. As he walked towards the end of the alleyway, he stopped in his tracks, his curiosity now replaced by bewilderment. 

There were two men at the end of the alley, two men he would know anywhere. But, why both Renji and Byakuya would be in such an area together didn’t make a lick of sense to Ichigo. The more he watched, the more he began to stare. Ichigo’s eyes were drawn to the redhead’s mouth, unable to hear the words he was speaking to the man who seemed to be extremely close. But, as Ichigo’s eyes traveled down, he saw the reason the two were so close together. His mouth dropped open as his eyes became glued to the pale buttocks of the fukutaichou.

Neither noticed they were being watched, too wrapped up in the moment to be aware of anything else. Renji was thrusting slowly into his taicho, each movement pulling a small sound from Byakuya as he bit down on his fist, apparently trying to mute the sounds.

“Taicho,” Renji said softly, leaning in to bite Byakuya’s bared shoulder as his hips stopped thrusting and began to rotate. The movement made the older shinigami gasp desperately, Byakuya seemingly fighting for air as his free hand curled, nails digging into the stone wall as if searching for something to hold on to.

Ichigo blinked, to make sure what he was seeing was real, and when he opened his eyes, he was suddenly pressed against the wall. “Huh?” 

“Such a good boy, Ichigo,” Renji whispered before slowly pulling his hips back a little. The redhead’s hands slid up from Ichigo’s hips to caress his torso, fingers lightly tracing the lines of muscle. “And always so protective of your friends… at any cost.” Laying a kiss to the youth’s shoulder, Renji pushed his hips forward slowly as his wandering fingers found Ichigo’s nipples and squeezed.

Inhaling sharply, Ichigo shook his head. “R-Renji…? What’s gotten into you?” He bit his lower lip, his chest arching into the redhead’s touch. 

“Nothin’s in me, but there’s certainly something in you,” another voice taunted from behind, amusement clear in his tone. Suddenly the hands on Ichigo’s chest were different, smaller and rougher as they pinched his nipples hard. “Or can’t ya feel it? Maybe ya just not paying attention,” the voice taunted again, hips beginning to move quicker now, each thrust into the youth harder than the last.

Ichigo turned his head quickly, shock shooting through him as he recognized the voice of captain of the third division, Ichimaru Gin. “You!” Ichigo cried out, as the man he had first encountered at the West Gate in Seireitei slammed hard into his body. His head pushed against the wall, as he was penetrated deeper. Trying to focus on what was going on, Ichigo closed his eyes tightly. “W-Where’s Renji?” 

“Probably off chasing Kuchiki-hime around, as usual,” a deeper voice replied, the hands on Ichigo’s body moving to his hips as the pace of the thrusts into him settled into a less sadistic rhythm. “Why ya worrying about him anyway? You should pay attention to the one you’re fighting, not somebody that ain’t even here,” the voice added in a growl, towering over him from behind. “Unless it’s the one that ain’t here that you really want to confront.”

The sound of bells tinkling made Ichigo’s eyes snap open, recognizing that noise anywhere. “Kenpachi?” Ichigo groaned, unable to keep up with man’s thrusts. “What the hell is going on?” 

“Kurosaki, do you ever keep up with what’s going on around you?” a quieter voice replied, bare skin suddenly molding against his back as soft lips kissed the side of his neck. “You have no focus at all, or self discipline. ” The thrusts were smoother now, and as one of the other man’s hands slipped around to stroke Ichigo’s cock precisely, the other supported him by wrapping around his chest. “Probably not all that surprising, considering your ancestry.”

Shaking his head, Ichigo was stunned to hear Byakuya’s voice behind him. “What? My ancestry?” Resting his head against the wall, he kept his hips still, not wanting to go any further with this man. “Why are you doing this to me? What about Renji? Isn’t he the one you’re with? Didn’t I just see you?” 

“Yes, you did,” Byakuya responded, his own hips stilling as his hand slipped away from Ichigo’s cock. He kept holding the boy though, the one arm wrapped around the youth’s waist as he rested his chin on his shoulder. “We are… equals when not on duty. That is what a real relationship is, Kurosaki. Both give, and both take. Neither one is above the other when we are bare and demonstrating our affection. Isn’t that what you want too? Or are you comfortable with lies and apparitions?”

“Lies?” Ichigo whispered, the last question bothering him more than it should have. “I don’t know what you mean by apparitions.” He tried to shy away from Byakuya’s touch, not at all comfortable with what the other man was saying. 

“I’ve never lied to you, my little Supāku,” a new voice whispered, nuzzling into the youth’s neck. “The illusions are… a necessary evil, but I swear, I have never lied.”

He tried to move, but Ichigo’s body was locked in place. Panic began to sweep over him, as that voice was easily identifiable. Gritting his teeth, he seethed out, “Aizen.” 

“Don’t you remember?” Aizen murmured, his hips pushing in and out slowly as his hands gently caressed Ichigo’s skin. “Stop fighting it and just feel… feel how familiar this all is to you.”

Blinking his eyes, the scenery suddenly shifted, pulling the substitute shinigami out of Seireitei. He was now seated on top of the principal’s desk at his school, wearing only his buttoned up shirt, which was completely undone. He had no clue as to where his pants were, but that wasn’t what was making him panic again. There was someone else in the room with him, the same man he could have sworn had been in the dream of Seireitei. But, that couldn’t be true, because why would that man be in this location?

“What the hell?” Ichigo asked, thoroughly confused. 

Aizen smirked, standing a few steps away dressed in what could only be described as a cheap, ugly two piece suit. His head was tilted a little to one side and he was holding what looked like a short cane in one hand, slowly slapping his other palm with it, as if taunting Ichigo.

“Kurosaki-kun,” the older man murmured, his tongue slipping out a little to wet his lips. “Doesn’t any of this ring any bells in your mind?”

Ichigo stared at the man, his eyes focused on the small cane that kept hitting the same spot over and over. “Why are you dressed in that outfit? That’s something that the headmaster of my school dresses in.” 

Aizen sighed, the suit morphing back into his usual attire. With a wave of his hand, he had Ichigo bent over the desk, hands and feet stuck in place.

“You seem to need something more… confronting to remind you,” he stated flatly, annoyance clear in his tone. One hand lifted to rub one of Ichigo’s ass cheeks gently before disappearing. “I wonder how many strikes it would take for you to apologize.”

The words that Aizen said sounded way too familiar to Ichigo, as if he had already heard them before. Shock began to course through him, as he realized that he _had_ heard them before, in this same exact situation, situated against his principal’s desk. 

“Took ya long enough to figure it out.” The gritty voice of his Hollow suddenly manifested. Shiro cackled, the sound ringing in Ichigo’s ears. “You ain’t realized that this man has done this to you twice now, King.” 

“Twice?” Ichigo shook his head. “No, that can’t be.” 

“Think long and hard about it,” Shiro’s voice grated on Ichigo’s nerves. “Cuz you know I’m right.” 

“But….” Ichigo closed his eyes tightly, ignoring the voice inside of his head. 

When he opened them, he was no longer against the desk, but now was seeing his Hollow in the position he had just been in. Shiro turned his head, and grinned at him, his black and yellow eyes containing some sort of secret that Ichigo couldn’t figure out. 

“Hm, let us see how long your resolve can last once you’ve had a taste,” Aizen continued, stepping a little to one side of Shiro’s body as he swished the cane in the air, seemingly unaware that it was no longer Ichigo before him. “First I’ll give you three softly, just to get you used to the feel of it.”

The first hit landed across the hollow’s backside, high up, only to be quickly followed by two more, each a little lower than the last. All were only light slaps, not even enough to redden the skin.

“How’s that, Kurosaki-kun? Ready for more?” Aizen asked sarcastically, his voice mocking in it’s arrogant confidence that he was in total control.

Turning around to face him, Shiro quickly grabbed onto the wrist that held the object that was striking him. Ripping it out of Aizen’s hand, he threw it to the side, and took advantage of Aizen’s surprise, flipping the man onto his back on the desk. “I ain’t ready for more, you disgusting fuck. You think you can do this to me?” 

Ichigo could only watch in horror, as his Hollow had the other man trapped against the desk, his voice no longer working. 

“What… how?” Aizen stuttered as he focused on Ichigo’s eyes, only to realize he wasn’t looking at Ichigo at all. “Hollow,” Aizen growled, expression twisting into anger. “Get off me, creature. This has nothing to do with you.”

“Nothin ta do with me?” Shiro pressed his hand against Aizen’s chest, keeping him in place against the desk with enough force that the man could not move. “And who you callin’ creature?” His other hand fondled Aizen lewdly, as he smirked. “Seems like ya don’t mind being in this position too much, do ya?” 

“ _That_ is from before,” Aizen insisted, his face reddening as he started to struggle beneath the hollow. “Ichigo is what I desire, not you.”

“Too bad the King is too chicken shit to do just what you want, eh?” Shiro said, glancing over at the still dumbstruck teen. “You know that I can give ya what you want.” His hand cupped Aizen’s cock, giving it a firm squeeze. 

“You’re not him!” Aizen hissed, his hips pushing up into the hollow’s touch despite his words.

“Ah, but I am him. And he’s me. We’re one and the same. Except, like I said, the King is too afraid to give in to what he wants. What he knows you want. So, ya get to get it from me instead.” His free hand untied the white belt around Aizen’s waist, and made quick work of the hakama he wore, stripping him of all the clothes on his lower body. 

“You can’t mean you’re going to…,” Aizen began, words dying at the expression Shiro directed at him. The shinigami was already breathing fast, and looked more confused than anything else at this point, the anger having drained away into shock.

“Seems like ya finally figured it out,” Shiro grinned, pulling his hakama down, exposing his cock. “I mean, ya seem to be turned on right now, if you if you keep denying it. Blah blah blah, I’m bored.” Shiro looked down, smirking at how aroused Aizen truly was. 

“I’m not here to relieve your boredom, hollow,” Aizen spat, renewing his struggles at the sight of Shiro’s cock. “I’m here for him and only him. You’re just an infection he happens to carry, nothing more than a disease.”

“Infection, ya say?” Shiro shook his head. “You say one thing, but I see you checkin me out. Seems like you want to have this infection satisfy you. Cuz, you know, the King ain’t home at the moment.” 

Ichigo stared, as the two men carried on their exchange. He didn’t want to interrupt, for fear of something happening to him. He stayed still, waiting to see just what these two were going to do. 

“You talk too much, a trait not shared by your host, thankfully,” Aizen sneered, lifting a leg to try and kick the hollow away from him.

Shiro grabbed onto the man’s leg, and held it under his arm. “You want me to stop talkin’? Fine. I’ll stop talkin’. Just remember that it was me that did this. Not him.” Shiro used the leverage of Aizen’s leg to pull the man closer to the edge of the desk. Once he had him situated in place, he quickly pushed himself into his body, hugging the leg close to his body as he sank deeper into Aizen. 

Aizen’s eyes widened, a low moan escaping his lips as he arched into the invasion, head tilting back on the desk. His hands scrambled on the surface of the desk blindly, as if looking for something to hold onto, but they did not raise to push the hollow away.

Ichigo’s eyes were locked onto where the two joined together, his hand snaking down into his pants. He hadn’t realized what he was doing, until he had moaned softly, not sure if he should stop and be quiet, or carry on as he was, as the other two men had seemingly forgotten about his presence. 

“Ya ain’t complain’ now, are ya?” Shiro thrust his hips slowly, waiting to see how the man would handle the gentle torture. 

“Shut up, you worthless beast,” Aizen hissed, his hips already moving with the hollow’s as his eyes fell closed in denial of his body’s movements. “You’ll pay for this.”

“Seems like I’m already collecting on my punishment,” Shiro smirked, as he slammed hard into Aizen’s body, moaning low. “You are as tight as I had hoped ya be.” 

The only reply Aizen could manage was a groan, his teeth biting down on his bottom lip hard as he tried to stop making the embarrassing sounds, refusing to admit to himself how good this felt. His cock gave him away despite his efforts, as it bobbed between them, hard, leaking and far too eager for more.

“Don’t be shy,” Shiro teased the other man, as he thrust his hips forward. “I can be loud, if ya like. Don’t know what turns ya on, except for what the King shows me. Know ya like your cock being sucked, but since I’m already in ya, that’s not in the cards.” 

“What turns me on is Ichigo,” Aizen whispered, keeping his eyes sealed shut. He could feel his arousal rising higher, his peak slowly approaching despite his inner protests. “This is just friction, nothing more.”

“You keep tellin yerself that.” Shiro grabbed onto Aizen’s other leg, and held it up at the same level, tucking it under his arm. “The sooner ya learn that I am him, and he is me, then you’ll realize just how good of a fuck we both are.” He thrusted his hips hard, striking the man’s prostate dead on. 

Aizen moaned loudly at the change of position, his eyes flying open in surprise at the sudden jolt of pleasure the new angle brought him.

“N-no!” he exclaimed between sounds of enjoyment, his eyes meeting the hollow’s yellow gaze with a desperation he couldn’t hide in the moment. “Stop… not like that!”

“Yer words, and your sounds, are two very different sentiments,” Shiro moaned low, as he struck the man in the same spot one more time. “You say no, but those noises make me think you want me to do this more to ya.” 

“Since when has what I wanted mattered to you?” Aizen argued, unable to take his gaze away from Ichigo’s face and those cursed eyes that made it clear it wasn’t Ichigo at all. “When has what anyone else wanted ever mattered to you. Even Ichigo’s wants are nothing but white noise to your ears.”

“That ain’t true at all,” Shiro lifted Aizen’s legs higher, finding the added height ideal for thrusting deeper into the man’s body. He moaned low, hugging his legs tightly, as he looked down at him. “I know he wants ya, but is too afraid to let this happen. Maybe if he sees just how much you enjoy it, he won’t be so chicken.” 

“What?!” Aizen exclaimed, trying to keep up amongst all the pleasure assaulting his senses. “He’s not here…I don’t understand,” he managed to mutter as his teeth clenched from how hard he was trying to hold back his climax.

Shiro groaned low, slamming hard into Aizen’s body. “You don’t really listen, do ya?” 

Ichigo’s hand was moving in the same tempo as Shiro’s thrusts, both men having the same reaction. He could feel himself getting close to his release, becoming more turned on the more these two fought with each other. He hated to admit it, but he knew what Shiro was saying was true. He did want to be the one in Shiro’s position, eagerly wanting it to be his cock that was buried into the traitor of Soul Society’s body, but was too scared to acknowledge it. 

“He… he is with you… doing this to me?” Aizen asked, eyes intent and eager as he gazed up at the hollow, suddenly focused amidst his arousal. “Tell me the truth!”

“Has anyone else turned you on as much as the King has?” Shiro said, pushing himself in as deep as he could go into Aizen’s body. 

Aizen reached up quickly to fist a hand into Shiro’s hair, pulling him down for a kiss that was full of all his feelings for Ichigo. His other hand slipped around to the hollow’s ass, pulling it in with every thrust eagerly.

“My Supāku,” Aizen whispered against the hollow’s lips. “Is this truly what you desire?”

Ichigo’s mouth opened, about to say that it was what he wanted, but Shiro shot him a look, instantly closing his mouth. The name which Aizen had whispered struck a chord in Ichigo, making him feel completely light-headed. He knew that name, and he couldn’t understand why, as there was still a fog in his brain. Watching the two men engage in another intense kiss, Ichigo stared at Aizen. He touched his lips with his unoccupied hand, his mouth remembering the taste of the other man’s tongue. Understanding dawned on him, blocking out the moans Shiro was making, as Ichigo suddenly saw a cottage in the back of his mind. Pressed against a wall, as Aizen had given him his first taste in hedonistic pleasure, as he gave himself over to the man, just as he had requested of him. That memory gave way to a second, the room that they were now in suddenly making more sense, as he saw himself against the desk, practically begging the man to fuck him into oblivion. 

“You know it is.” Shiro thrust his hips hard, pressing his forehead against Aizen’s. “Needin ya on your back is just what I fuckin desire.” 

Aizen groaned, letting go of all self restraint at the suggestion that Ichigo wanted him. His climax was swift, but mostly silent… a sudden hard intake of breath and a closing of his eyes, followed by a slow, stuttering exhale. When his eyes opened, they focused on Shiro and stayed there, as if searching for Ichigo behind the hollow’s gaze.

“Claim me for your king, hollow,” Aizen murmured, one side of his lips curving up slightly.

Ichigo bit back his own moan, shaking in his spot as he heard Aizen tell his hollow to finish. With one final thrust of his hips, Shiro came hard inside the man, letting out a loud moan. Ichigo finished with the hollow, his own hand never stopping. 

Shiro looked over at Ichigo, and stared into the teen’s eyes. “Ah, so it looks like the King finally remembers.” 

“Finally,” Aizen replied, his form wavering. Reaching up a hand, he pushed Shiro backwards as he sat up, his appearance fading and reforming into a fully dressed Zangetsu.

Embarrassment washed over Ichigo’s body, as he tried to hide his shame. Looking down at his feet, he pulled his hand out of his hakama, shaking his head. “I don’t understand what’s going on.” 

“Ya say that, but then ya know what I’m talkin’ about. You saw him, didn’t ‘cha?” Shiro pulled up his own pants, a smirk plastered on his face. “You can’t say ya don’t understand, when it’s pretty obvious.” 

Ichigo looked at the Hollow. “Why is the old man here? Wasn’t he someone else just a second ago?” 

“You mean that prick that’s been fuckin with yer memory?” Shiro asked, glancing over at Zangetsu. “No offense. You know I ain’t speakin about you.” 

“How do you know that?” Ichigo asked, scratching the back of his neck with his clean hand. “You mean to tell me that this has all been a lie?” 

“Well, it ain’t a lie if it actually happened.” Shiro crossed his arms over his chest. “You know that the man has modified your memory, but that ain’t the case anymore, right? You do remember, don’tcha?” 

Ichigo thought about what his hollow was saying, and couldn’t deny the fact that he was right. “So, if he modified my memory, why was it you who was fucking him? Because, in my memory, it was the other way around.” 

“Because you know that’s what you want.” Shiro grinned. “You need that man more than you care to admit, and I was just showin ya what it’d be like to take it.” 

“How am I supposed to take it?” Ichigo said, shaking his head. “The second time I saw him, he sought me out. I don’t even know where he is.” 

“Ah, but ya do.” Shiro walked over to him, and tapped him on the temple. “Think hard, King. The answer is in there.” 

Pushing the hollow’s hand away from him, Ichigo thought about what he was saying. “How am I supposed to get to Hueco Mundo?” 

“I’m sure you’ll figure that out, King.” Shiro shrugged his shoulders. “If ya want somethin bad enough, then it may just manifest itself in a way you weren’t expectin’.” 

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Ichigo shook his head. “Now you’re speaking in riddles. Can this be done? You supposedly showed me what I wasn’t aware of, but now I know.” 

“You know, but perhaps he doesn’t know you know.” Shiro cackled, making the teen become irritated. 

“What the fuck does that mean?” Ichigo asked. “He doesn’t know I know? Know what? That I know he fucked with my mind?” 

“Exactly.” Shiro nodded. “So, when ya meet him again, ya gotta pretend you don’t know.” 

Ichigo understood what his Hollow was saying. “If I meet him again.” 

“Pretty sure that won’t be a problem.” Shiro smirked. “I seen the way he looks at you. Someone can’t just easily give something up, not after they’ve had a sample of it.” Shiro wore a lecherous grin on his face. “You know you want to be the one to fuck him.” 

Blushing, Ichigo looked away. “Enough.” 

“Just remember what we showed you, King. Then, remember to play dumb.” 

The dream began to fade, as Ichigo slowly began to regain consciousness. Ichigo groaned, as his head began to pound. Rubbing his eyes, he sat up, yawning a little, hoping to take the grogginess away. 

“Did you have a nice sleep?” 

Ichigo looked over, and saw that Urahara was leaning against the wall, his striped hat pulled down over his eyes. He yawned again, before standing up. “I guess so. Did I sleep through the night?” 

“You did.” Urahara said. “If you hurry, you’ll have enough time to catch Kon heading to school.” 

Nodding, Ichigo stretched out his back, his muscles popping in protest to sleeping on the ground. “Well, thanks for letting me stay. I guess I really needed that sleep.” 

“Mmmhmm. Be careful on your way to school, Kurosaki-san. You don’t know what lurks there in the shadows.” Urahara walked out of the room, leaving the orange haired teen alone. 

Ichigo glanced down, praying silently that the shopkeeper hadn’t noticed the mess he had made in his pants from the vivid dream he had experienced. Grabbing his stuff, he walked out of the room, and headed out of the shop without saying goodbye to anyone else. 

“What do you think, boss?” the taller, often quiet bespectacled man said, appearing next to Urahara. 

The shopkeeper watched as Ichigo walked away from his shop, deep in thought. “I’m not too sure, Tessai. I think that we may have a bigger problem on our hands, as I was able to pinpoint just whose reiatsu was intermingling with Kurosaki’s.” 

“Oh?” Tessai asked. “And who would that be?” 

“Aizen.” 

 

~~~

**Author's Note:**

> Supāku - 'spark' in Japanese
> 
> Lastly, yes there was no preparation or lube used by Shiro on Aizen/Zangetsu. This is because this occurs in a dream with no physical bodies involved, although we apologize to anyone who may be upset by it.


End file.
